


The Waltz Of Wanting

by EffingEden



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-27
Updated: 2010-11-27
Packaged: 2017-10-13 10:17:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EffingEden/pseuds/EffingEden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lily is trapped in a very strange game between James and Sirius</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Waltz Of Wanting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trinityday](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=trinityday).



> Comment_fic prompt, 'Harry Potter, Lily/Sirius, James won't be rough'

It wasn’t cheating, how could it be? James knew. He had to. Just the looks they passed between them, the conversations they had with a shrug, a smirk, a drum of the fingers... not even brothers could be so well attuned. It was like they were one. One soul. In battle.

In bed.

It made her so angry, that this was something he wanted, as much as she wanted it. More. For how long had they played this game? Waltzing whichever girl that caught their fancy between them. They were so powerful, so intoxicating... they were the perfect reflection of each other.

She knew she wasn’t the first they had caught between them like this – but she also knew they were being... careful, gentle, cautious. All the power, it was with her. They wouldn’t continue this toying if she held firm. And yet, and yet. That self-same power they gave was in itself, seductive.

She could choose how far this went.

She might not have their brilliance, but she had wit enough to read the rules. What one wouldn’t do, the other would.

James was wonderful. Arrogant, yes, but he had reason to be. She had never had a lover that took such care. Never had one to spend long hours worshiping her body, or who treated her with such care.

She had never felt so delicate, so valued as she did with James, feeling his power quiver with contained lust, but never did he let go and take her with all his power. Not once did he press her down on the table, or to the floor, never thrust into her all at once, never clutched her hard to keep her in place.

It drove her mad.

She had asked him, pleaded, demanded to be taken, to be fucked. She’d even ravaged him on several occasions, trying to bring out a similar response, but he only took what she gave and murmured encouragement, gentle in every touch and word.

The next time she was alone with Sirius he had let his eyes drift over her and commented, almost lazily, that she looked like she needed a good, hard seeing to.

Oh, the fury she had felt in that moment. “Just point me at who’d be willing,” she had ranted. And he had smiled.

“James not giving you what you want, girl? You know, you just need to ask. I’d be more than happy to scratch that itch of yours-“

Her hand had connected with his cheek so hard her palm stung. His eyes blazed.

She didn’t know who had moved first, but that kiss was full of anger, full of frustration, it felt like it was going to burn her alive. His mouth was savage, demanding, the scrape of stubble underlining he wasn’t James and she couldn’t, shouldn’t – but she wanted, wanted, wanted.

She might not recall who kissed who but she recalled enough to know the blame of who started to tear away their clothes first was all her. She didn’t care about naked – she just wanted enough bared to get what she desired.

He growled as she jerked open his fly and slid her hand inside to grasp his half-hard cock, the sound animalistic and making the deepest parts of her throb. His strong hands dragging at her clothes, too, hitching her skirt over her hips, dragging her knickers down and crudely cupping her, fingers rubbing into her slit. She gasped and her hips jumped, the intruding, knowing caress blanking her mind for an instant. “Look at you, little slut, “ he whispered, his tone approving and hungry. “Bet James can’t make you beg like I’m going to.”

He took her hard and rough against the wall, pounding into her with such strength and speed she was sore for hours after, bruises at her hips telling of the desperation of the one who had held her.

She had searched the house for a bruise balm after Sirius had left, but there wasn’t any in the house, and the key ingredient was missing from the potion supplies. Just as she was about to floo out to buy something premade, James came home. She hadn’t realised, then, that it was a game between him and Sirius. She had been so worked up over her infidelity she had almost told him as he kissed and nibbled her neck. He didn’t let her escape as he undressed her, right there in the living room.

And then, when he had seen the dappling of bruises on her hips, he hadn’t asked what had happened, hadn’t looked at her in accusation. He had kissed them, licked and nuzzled them. It was his excitement at their discovery that made her cotton on to the game.

James’ gentle insistence had her lie down on the hearth rug. He wasn’t rough with her, he lingered in his deepest thrusts, making the aches inside burn anew, the way his eyes danced and savoured the way her breath hitched and shuddered when he found a tender spot.

It was his way of giving her what she needed while getting something he wanted, too. She loved him and hated him for it.


End file.
